The oppressed gather in groups,
Spelling bitterly their grievances out,
The grievous cost of being in suspense,
A reward for their endless toils,
Sweat, ups and downs!
Frowns take over,
Cracked scars of wrinkles dominate,
Eyes retreat to their sunken shells
Teeth lost their snowy glitter,
Fatigue robs them the seconds of delight!
Bowed headed, the oppressed regretfully
Go back home bare handed
At the threshold, heavy by the brunt of life,
The same tone rests into their ears,
The tormenting echoes of their dependants
Torturing their hearts.
Food!
Milk!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like your gifted talent to mould and remould l